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Running my fingers through my hair, I lean back in my chair. “I appreciate that. Thank you. And I’m sorry for not answering. I’ve been busy.”
“Ah, yes, Animal Haven.”
“I’m not discussing Mo with you, if that’s what you’re working toward.”
She holds up her hands. “So quick to go on the defensive. I couldn’t care less about your little friend Mo. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
I’m going to need a drink for this. “Want a beer?” I push up from the chair and grab a bottle from the refrigerator.
“A beer would be good.”
My left arm is still in the sling, so I hold the beer bottle with my left hand and use my right to twist the cap. But the movement puts more pressure on my arm than I intended, and I wince.
“Shit,” I hiss.
Nikki jumps up from her chair and takes the bottle. “Here, let me.”
Cupping the palm of her hand over the bottle she manages to pop the cap on her beer and then mine. When she sees me looking at her funny, she laughs. “What? You’ve never seen a girl pop the top off a beer?”
“No, I’ve seen girls do it; I just wasn’t expecting you to do it.”
Nikki hands me my beer and sits back in her chair. “I’m not as prissy and stuck up as everyone thinks I am.”
“No one called you stuck up.”
Tipping her head back, she takes a drink. “Don’t have to; they’re thinking it.”
I can’t deny it—I’ve thought that a time or two.
“See,” she says, pointing her beer toward me. “You’ve thought it before.”
“Once or twice, but I don’t think it all the time.”
“You don’t?”
“Not at all. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to work in a field littered with men. I think any woman would have to have some bite to her to do what you do.”
“Thanks.” She smiles and picks at the label on her beer. “I appreciate that.”
A couple of seconds pass, and when she doesn’t make an attempt to redirect the conversation, I do it for her.
“So, you wanted to talk about my career.”
She looks up. “Yes. Your career.” Reaching for her bag on the floor, she pulls out a file folder. “I think while you’re rehabbing, this might be the perfect opportunity to get in one of those campaign ads. Your shoot for Rugged wasn’t supposed to happen for another couple of months, but I talked to Jessica, and she’s not opposed to moving it up.”
I learned from Nikki that Christian Devonshire is a hot new designer with denim line called Rugged, and they sought me out to be the face of their brand.
“Awesome. As long as I don’t have to do any heavy lifting or use my arm.”
“No.” She waves me off. “Nothing like that. In fact, your ad is with a female model.” Nikki flips through her folder. “Molly Farris.”
“I’ve never heard of her.”
“Me neither. It’ll be a couple shoot. They’re aware of your shoulder and have agreed to work around it.”
“When do I fly out?”
“Well…that’s something I was going to talk to you about. When I was outside on the phone earlier, I was making a proposition to Jessica.”
